


What Happens in Vegas

by heartlines



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartlines/pseuds/heartlines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons was a by-the-book, follow the rules, properly raised English girl. She was NOT the type of girl who gets drunk in Vegas, comes onto a guy and wakes up in bed with him with a ring on her finger and almost no memories of the night before. Except that is exactly what happened and that is how she wound up married to Dr. Leo Fitz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The first thing he becomes aware of is the pounding in his head. Leo Fitz opens his eyes and squints against the too bright sunlight streaming in through the crack of the curtain of his hotel room. He tried to lift his right arm over his eyes only to realize that a heavy weight was pressing down on it. Fitz warily opened his eyes again and turned his head. If it weren’t for the fact that he was essentially pinned down to the bed he would have fallen off of it in shock.

There was a girl in his bed.

The pounding in his head increased as his heart rate sped up. To say that Leo Fitz waking up in bed with a hangover, almost no memories of the night before, and a stranger in his bed was a once in a billion times infinity occurrence would be an understatement. 

The woman stirred. She shifted so that most of her head was on the pillow and not on his arm. Fitz tried to cautiously and slowly remove his arm from beneath her neck but she only stirred more and threw her right arm over his chest. Her hair fell back from her face and Fitz found himself staring down at…

No no no no no.

He blinked. And then pinched himself. Ouch, that hurt. He blinked again.

She was still there. He wasn’t dreaming.

But he had to be dreaming. That was the only explanation for why Dr. Jemma Simmons, possibly the most intelligent person on Earth and the woman of his dreams, was lying in bed next to him. And she was…

She shifted so that her head was now on his shoulder and her chest pressed against torso. Oh yes…she was definitely naked. And so was he.

Fitz closed his eyes and tried to see through the hazy fog of his memories for some kind of explanation for how he got here.

His presentation. Dr. Simmons - Jemma. She had asked him to call her Jemma – had approached him after he had given his presentation. They had talked and Fitz tried desperately not to make a fool of himself. But he didn’t because she was so interested in his research and he had a million questions about hers and it was so easy to talk to her that he felt like he could sit down and do only that for the rest of his life. Of course he couldn’t actually do that though as he was reminded by the many colleagues vying for their attention. He lost her in the hustle of the conference and couldn’t help but feel the heavy weight of disappointment in his chest. It only lifted later that night when one of his grad school buddies who now taught at Cal Tech managed to drag him to the reception in the hotel lounge. It was there that Jemma had found him at the bar. They talked and laughed and drank…they drank a lot, goaded on by their increasingly drunk colleagues. This was when Fitz’s memories started to blur together. He could still feel Jemma’s soft lips pressed against his…soft tentative kisses…and later on hot, desperately passionate kisses. Jemma’s smile, the way that he felt like he could drown in the depths of her eyes. He remembered holding her hands in his and, inexplicably, a flash of Elvis’ face. More kissing…a lot of kissing…clothes coming off…

Fitz opened his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. It was best not to delve too deeply into _those_ memories right now. He could feel his body reacting and the last thing he needed was for Jemma to wake up to…well, to that.

He looked down at her and tried not to think about how, under different circumstances, this would be a dream come true.

Jemma shifted around and rubbed her eyes. She opened them and looked faintly alarmed to see him. Fitz didn’t know how much she remembered but he wouldn’t blame her in the least if she started attacking him or screaming for help. She looked down at her bare chest and Fitz realized almost too late that the sheet covering her had slipped down. He got a glimpse of two beautiful, perfect globes before she squeaked and pulled the sheet up, scooting to the other side of the bed.

“H-hi,” he said hesitantly.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“I-uh…I don’t know how much you remember…”

Jemma winced. “My head,” she groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“Yeah-yeah. Let me help with that.” Fitz made to get out of bed but realized that this was not his room. He felt his neck redden as he took in their clothes carelessly strewn everywhere.

Luckily he spotted his boxers on the floor near the foot of the bed and quickly pulled it on. He stood up and took two bottles of water out of the mini-fridge.

“Do you have any aspirin?” He asked. “I can get it for you.”

“Bathroom counter,” she said.

Fitz found a bottle of aspirin sitting on the bathroom counter near the sink and handed it and a bottle of water to Jemma. She took two aspirin and gave him back the bottle. Fitz took two for himself and washed it down with the water.

He sank down on the edge of the bed by Jemma’s legs, not really knowing what to do or say.

“I-I don’t remember much from last night,” Jemma said.

Fitz flinched even though he expected it. “Me either. I’m sorry, Jemma.”

She frowned. “Sorry for what?”

“For whatever happened. I was drunk but that’s not an excuse. We-I shouldn’t have-”

“Fitz,” Jemma interrupted, scooting down the bed so that she was next to him. “I may not remember very much from last night but I remember enough to know that whatever happened between us, I wanted it to happen.”

He looked up and found himself feeling breathless at her proximity.

“I…” she blushed. “I had fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

He looked down at her lips. They were so full and plump, still swollen and rosy red from all of the attention he paid them last night. She bit her lower lip and brought a hand up to stroke down his arm. Fitz leaned in, his hands trembling in anticipation of feeling her lips against his again. But Jemma suddenly froze.

Fitz pulled back and was alarmed to see that Jemma’s face had paled, her eyes wide with shock. She was staring at her hand that was still resting on his arm.

“Fitz?” She whispered.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, feeling the panic growing in his chest.

She pointed at her hand. He looked down at it again and realized that she was pointing to a silver band on her left ring finger.

His eyes widened. Married? She was married? Except no…by the way she was reacting this had to be a new development for her. He lifted a hand to run through his hair and a glint of silver caught his attention.

Fitz stared down at the silver band around his own left ring finger. He looked back at Jemma, who was staring at it too.

_Shit._


	2. Shut Up and Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, one, you’re a dork. Two, I can’t believe you’ve highlighted, color coded, and most likely memorized this schedule. And three, why is this one talk decorated in hearts?”
> 
> Jemma blushed furiously and snatched the schedule from Skye’s hands. “That’s nothing. I was just doodling while on Skype conference with Professor Vaughn. The man does tend to drone on and on.”
> 
> Skye grinned. “Who’s Dr. Leopold Fitz?”
> 
> Jemma stabbed her fork into her salad and carefully avoided Skye’s eyes. “No one.”

“So let me get this straight,” Skye said incredulously. “You’re going to Vegas for three days but you’re going to be cooped up in lectures all day?”

“Yes. It’s a conference, Skye,” Jemma explained patiently. “What else are we going to do?”

Skye’s mouth dropped open. “What else – It’s Vegas! You could gamble, go dancing, let hot guys buy you drinks and then bring the hottest one up to your hotel room and-”

“Alright! I get it,” Jemma blushed. “It’s an academic conference and I’ve been looking forward to it for months. See, I’ve already planned out which lectures I’ll be attending, in order of importance.” She pushed the schedule that she had been carefully going over across the table. “I’ve been preparing my own lecture for the past three months. I really think that my colleagues will be as excited as I am about-”

“Okay, one, you’re a dork. Two, I can’t believe you’ve highlighted, color coded, and most likely memorized this schedule. And three, why is this one talk decorated in hearts?”

Jemma blushed furiously and snatched the schedule from Skye’s hands. “That’s nothing. I was just doodling while on Skype conference with Professor Vaughn. The man does tend to drone on and on.”

Skye grinned. “Who’s Dr. Leopold Fitz?”

Jemma stabbed her fork into her salad and carefully avoided Skye’s eyes. “No one.”

“Okay then.” Skye pulled out her phone. “How about I just type ‘no one’s’ name into a Google search?”

“No! Skye!” Jemma tried to grab the phone but Skye simply leaned back and held the phone out of her reach. Jemma realized she was making a spectacle of herself amongst the students and colleagues in the cafeteria and dropped back down onto her seat.

“Dr. Leopold Fitz, professor of Engineering at MIT. He’s from Scotland…nice, you’re from the same place…”

“Scotland and England is not the same-” Jemma tried to protest.

“Got his undergrad from Harvard at fifteen,” Skye spoke over her. “Ph.D. from MIT at seventeen. So he’s also a child prodigy genius freak like you and…Oh!” She held out her phone, which now showed a quite familiar picture of Dr. Fitz. “He’s cute…in a nerdy, boyish way. That’s definitely a face that’s begging to be debauched.”

“Skye!” Jemma hissed, her eyes widening.

Skye laughed. “Relax. You know I’m just messing with you. What’s the deal with this guy then? And don’t you dare say nothing, Jemma Simmons.”

“I am an admirer of his work is all,” Jemma said. She could see Skye’s lascivious smirk and rolled her eyes. “I mean that I’ve been following his research for years now and I think that all of his concepts and innovations are brilliant. He’s foremost in his fields of Quantum Mechanics and Engineering and I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to hear him speak about the work he’s been doing on-”

“Okay,” Skye held a hand up. “Academic boner, I get it. Are you taking Connor with you?”

Jemma made a face. “The school is sponsoring my flight and hotel room. It would be irresponsible to bring a companion and this conference is really not his type of thing anyway.”

Skye smirked. “High School Biology teacher can’t keep up?”

“It’s not that he – Connor’s simply more interested in the practical aspects of science than the research aspect…”

“Uh-huh. He gets the same glazed look in his eyes when you go all science-speak mode that we all do. How are things between you guys anyway?”

“I haven’t really seen him much lately. I’ve been so busy in the lab and between my current experiment and preparing for my presentation at the conference I just haven’t had the time.”

“You look so broken up about that,” Skye laughed. 

“I don’t know, I just think that this thing between us has run its course. Connor’s nice and everything but he’s…”

“Boring?”

Jemma shook her head but couldn’t help smiling a little. Boring was a little harsh but she couldn’t deny that Connor, as all the guys she had dated in the past, was failing to hold her interest.

“It’s not that he’s boring,” she tried to explain. “It’s just…I don’t really find him interesting.”

“You do know that’s pretty much the same thing, right?”

Jemma sighed. “I just mean that I’d like to find someone that I really connect with, someone who understands me. Connor is sweet, he’s smart, and he adores his students. But being with him is like being with the other guys I’ve dated. It feels like something is missing. I don’t know, is something wrong with me? Am I asking for too much?”

“There’s nothing wrong with setting your standards high.”

It wasn’t just about standards though. Jemma didn’t know how to put into words what exactly she meant because she didn’t understand it herself, so she just nodded and listened as Skye outlined all of the places that Jemma needed to go to in Vegas.

**

Fitz didn’t expect the conference room where he was giving his presentation to be quite so packed but he took it in stride, pretending that he was a grad student again and lecturing to a hall of over a hundred students. He remembered his first time speaking at one of these things and how his audience consisted of eight people, including two of his professors and mentors. This was definitely a step up, though he felt the interest was really on his work in Quantum Mechanics and not on Fitz himself.

Fitz didn’t hate public speaking but it was not his favorite part of his job. He would much rather be in his lab working than schmoozing with colleagues and pandering to alumni and sponsors for funding. No one at these things ever asked any interesting questions anyway.

“Dr. Fitz!” 

Of course the Dean of his department was ready and waiting to accost him as soon as he stepped off the lectern. Dr. Davis smiled at him eagerly, an older couple he’d never seen before standing by his side.

“Dr. Fitz, may I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Wilks. Mr. Wilks used to head up Research & Development at Hammer Industries before he retired and he’s very interested in some of your research.”

Fitz carefully kept his face neutral as he shook their hands. He’d never really cared for private industries like Hammer or Stark but if he had to choose, he’d pick Stark over Hammer a hundred times over.

“I’m a big fan of your work, Dr. Fitz,” Mr. Wilks said in a loud, booming voice. “I know that Mr. Hammer was very interested in trying to get you to come work for us a few years back.”

 _And I would have rather been dragged face down over hot coals_ , Fitz thought. Outwardly he smiled and said, “My heart lies in academic research and not in private corporations.”

Mr. Wilks laughed. “Your heart must enjoy having a thin wallet because I happen to know that Mr. Hammer offered you a good deal of money. And rumor has it that Tony Stark offered a good deal more.”

Fitz shrugged.

“Listen, my boy,” Mr. Wilks put an arm around Fitz’s shoulders. “I personally think that you have the potential to be better than Hammer and Stark combined. You could give them a run for their money if you had the proper advisor and I-”

“Dr. Fitz!” A voice cut in. “I was wondering if I might ask you a question about your presentation.”

“We’re a little busy here…” Mr. Wilks started to say but Fitz took the opportunity to shrug out from beneath the older man’s arm.

“Yes! Yes,” he said in relief. “I am here to answer questions.”

He turned towards his savior and was bowled over to be standing in front of Dr. Jemma Simmons. His mouth dropped open.

She smiled brightly at him and took his arm, effectively leading him away from Mr. Wilks.

“You looked like you needed saving.”

“Th-thank you.” Fitz still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Dr. Simmons was one of the best and brightest in her field of Biochemistry. She was famous for having discovered healing properties in the bacterial strain GH-325. She had been awarded the Copley Medley the previous year and she was only twenty-six. Fitz had attended her even more packed lecture just a few hours ago and hadn’t had the courage to try and talk to her.

“I heard that happens quite often with you.”

“What does?”

“People trying to lure you from academia to the private sector,” she clarified.

“Ah yes. It’s been happening since I was eighteen to be honest. I don’t know how many times and in how many ways I can say ‘no’ before they get the message.”

“You’ve never been tempted?” Dr. Simmons asked curiously.

“Once,” Fitz admitted. “Tony Stark came to talk to me himself. He did the typical pitch: money, access to the most advanced equipment and technology. I almost took him up on his offer.”

“What stopped you?”

Fitz was about to answer when something over Dr. Simmon’s shoulder caught his attention. Dr. Davis was frantically beckoning him over. Fitz had half a mind to completely ignore his boss but Dr. Simmons had turned to look as well.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” she told him apologetically.

 _You can keep me forever_ is what he wanted to say to her but instead he said, “I do have to go but I do really want to talk to you, Dr. Simmons.”

She smiled brightly. “Call me Jemma. I’m in room-”

“Fitz!” Dr. Davis had appeared at their side. “I really need you to come with me and talk with some of the board members from Stryker Corp. Johnson and Thomas from Cal Tech is monopolizing their attention and…Oh!” Dr. Davis realized who Fitz was talking to. “Dr. Simmons! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Harold Davis, I head up the Engineering department at MIT.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Jemma shook his hand.

“I’m sorry to interrupt this meeting of brilliant minds but I’m afraid I really do need Dr. Fitz right now.”

“He’s all yours as long as you promise that I can borrow him later.” She winked.

Dr. Davis laughed heartily. “That depends on what you plan to do with him.” He threw an arm around Fitz, who was flushed red and wishing very much that a hole would open up under his feet. “This boy’s brain and hands are worth their weight in gold.”

Jemma looked down at his hands in interest. “I’m sure. I’ve been keeping up with your work, Dr. Fitz.”

“I didn’t know you had an interest in Physics and Engineering,” Fitz said. “Since your field is Biochemistry and all.”

“I have an interest in a great many things. And the dispersal mechanisms you’ve invented really are one of a kind and-”

“We wouldn’t be well-rounded scientists if we couldn’t step out of our specializations a little bit,” Dr. Davis interrupted. “But really, Fitz…”

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Fitz smiled apologetically as his boss led him away. He realized that he should have at least given her his phone number but when he turned back she was lost in the crowd of people still milling about the room.

**

Four hours later and Fitz was still kicking himself. Jemma Simmons was possibly the only really interesting person at this whole conference and he had blown his chance to finally talk to her. Or Davis had. Fitz internally cursed his boss. But the more he thought about it the more he realized that it was probably a good thing that he hadn’t been able to have more than a five minute conversation with Dr. Simmons (Jemma. She had asked him to call her Jemma). She was one of the most brilliant scientists of their generation and Fitz would have undoubtedly blathered on like an idiot and made a fool of himself. He had done it before after all, a long time ago, and he could count his lucky stars that she didn’t seem to remember.

Fitz lay back on his bed and was resigned to just ordering in from room service and perhaps finding an interesting enough movie on pay-per-view when there was a knock on his door. He groaned and got up to open it. 

“Fitz my man!” Donnie grinned at him. “Get dressed and let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To the bar downstairs. We’re in Vegas! Don’t tell me you’re just going to stay cooped up in your room.”

“That’s exactly what I was planning to do and when did you suddenly become a party animal? I remember when you couldn’t be dragged out of your room either.”

“You should have joined me in LA, nightclubs, celebrities…”

Fitz looked at him skeptically.

“Okay. I wouldn’t know about any of that.” Donnie laughed. “But come on! It’s one night and we’re in Vegas! Live a little.”

Fitz sighed and grabbed his blazer from where he had tossed it on a chair. He was about to pick up the tie next to it but decided against it. He didn’t plan to stay downstairs for very long anyway.

“Come on,” he said. “Somebody has to drag your drunk arse back to your room tonight.”

Donnie pumped his fists into the air in victory and followed Fitz out of the room.

**

An hour later and Fitz was absolutely sure that he should have just stayed in his room. So far he’s not only had to watch Donnie take five shots and get rejected by three women but he’s also had to suffer through watching his pale, hardly-been-out-of-a-lab colleagues get plied loose by copious amounts of alcohol to disastrous results. Whoever thought of holding this conference in Vegas really needed to have their head examined. Fitz gestured for the bartender to refill his scotch.

Donnie collapsed onto the bar stool next to him and put his head on his arms.

“You gave it your best shot, Donnie.” Fitz patted his shoulder. “Time to give it up and turn in.”

“No, what I need is another drink.” Donnie gestured to the bartender.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And you need to get your ass out of that chair. What kind of wingman are you, Fitz? Even Seth got someone.” He gestured to a corner where Seth Dormer, Fitz’s former nemesis at MIT, was talking to Callie Hannigan, a BioTech specialist that Fitz had talked to in passing a few times.

Fitz shrugged. “Good for him.”

Donnie threw back his whiskey. “Fine. If you don’t want to be my wingman, I’ll be yours. Let’s get Fitzy laid tonight, maybe then you’ll loosen up.”

He twisted around to survey the room while Fitz looked down at his watch. He’d give it ten minutes and then he was walking out of here whether Donnie liked it or not. 

“Fitz.” Donnie patted him urgently. “Seriously hot girl is checking you out.”

Fitz shrugged him off and sipped his scotch. “Get off it. I’m not falling for that.”

“I am really not kidding. She’s smoking and she hasn’t taken her eyes off you since she walked in.”

Fitz turned around, more in annoyance than anything else because Donnie would not stop poking him, and he nearly fell out of his seat when he saw Jemma Simmons standing near the entrance to the bar. She grinned widely when he caught her eye and Fitz smiled weakly back.

She said something to her companion and then she was walking straight towards him. 

“Wow,” Donnie breathed beside him.

Fitz couldn’t help but agree. Jemma had looked beautiful and professional in the pantsuit that she had been wearing that afternoon but she looked nothing short of spectacular in a tight fitting red dress that stopped several inches above her knees and made her legs look criminally long.

“Hello, Fitz,” she said. The pretty flush in her cheeks told him that she’d most likely had a few drinks already.

“Hi J-Jemma.”

“I’m glad I ran into you. I wasn’t sure if I would again.”

“Yeah…” The longer he looked at her the less words were coming into his head and Fitz really wanted to kick himself.

Donnie cleared his throat.

“Uh, Jemma, this is Donnie Gill from Cal Tech. Donnie, this is Jemma Simmons.”

Donnie’s eyes widened slightly at her name as Jemma held her hand out for him to shake.

“Dr. Simmons, it’s an honor.”

Jemma grinned. “Please, just call me Jemma. And it’s very nice to meet you.”

“Fitz here is a huge fan of your work,” Donnie said eagerly. “Wouldn’t shut up about it back when we were in grad school-”

“Drink!” Fitz exclaimed. “We should get Jemma a drink, shouldn’t we, Donnie?” He gave his friend a hard shove.

“Ow. Right, of course. What are you drinking, Doc-Jemma?”

Jemma smiled at Fitz, her eyes twinkling. “Long Island Ice Tea, please.”

“Deadly,” Donnie commented. “I like it.”

“But only if Fitz will have the same,” she added.

“Two Long Island’s,” Donnie told the bartender before Fitz could protest. Girly drinks weren’t his thing. He was a true Scotsman and preferred his liquor straight. But the protest died in his throat anyway when Jemma perched herself on the barstool on Fitz’s other side and her dress rode up another inch, revealing a smooth expanse of thigh as she crossed her legs.

“Donnie,” Jemma said after the bartender had given them their drinks. “How do you know Fitz?”

“We went to grad school together.”

“You must have a lot of stories then.”

Fitz frowned at being excluded from the conversation even though they were talking about him. 

“No,” he said before Donnie could open his mouth. “No stories.”

Jemma pouted her deliciously full and plump red lips. “You’re no fun.”

“Fitz can be fun, he just needs more alcohol in him,” Donnie said. “How about we get a round of shots?”

“Brilliant idea,” Jemma agreed.

Fitz looked between the two of them. “Are you both mental?”

“Fitz, I’ve been telling you all night that we’re in Vegas. Loosen up!”

Jemma put a hand on his arm. “Let’s make a deal. If you do shots with me, I’ll let you lick the salt off my neck.”

Fitz’s mouth dropped open. “Ha-have you been drinking a lot tonight, Jemma?”

“A little bit,” she said lowly, leaning in closer to him. “Just enough to get the courage to come over here and talk to you.”

“Oh.” He swallowed hard, feeling lost in the intensity of her brown eyes and the heady smell of her shampoo as her curls brushed over his shoulder.

“What do you say to more liquid courage, Fitz?”

He nodded eagerly. At Donnie’s urging the bartender lined up a row of tequila shots in front of Fitz and Jemma. She smiled at him and gathered her hair over one shoulder, extending her neck to him. Fitz was absolutely, one hundred percent sure that he would do as many shots as she wanted. In fact, he was sure that there was nothing at all that she could ask of him that he wouldn’t do.


	3. That's What You Get For Waking Up in Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He very slowly licked his way up Jemma’s skin, catching each and every grain of salt. Jemma’s breath hitched and Fitz could feel her pulse racing beneath his tongue. He gulped down the shot, his eyes never leaving Jemma’s._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _His skin was heating up and Fitz didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from Jemma’s gaze._
> 
>  
> 
> _“That’s five,” he said. “Your turn.”_

“Are we – Did we?” Fitz scrubbed his hand over his face, the throbbing inside his head was getting worse.

Jemma wrapped the sheets around herself and stood up from the bed. Fitz hunted for the rest of his clothes while Jemma walked over to a writing desk. She lifted up a piece of paper.

“Marriage contract,” she said, her voice hoarse. “It has both of our signatures.”

Fitz took the paper from her. There it was, irrevocable proof of a seriously bad decision. “I think I my signature looks better when I’m drunk than when I’m sober,” he observed.

“Fitz!” Jemma had one hand on her neck and the other was gripping the sheet tightly to her chest. “We’re married! What are we going to do?”

He gulped. _We’re married_. “We’ll get it annulled,” he said. “That should be easy, yeah? People do it all the time.”

Jemma took a deep breath. “Yes. You’re right. Annullment. Good.”

They stood there for a few moments, staring at one another and trying to look anywhere else.

“We should get dressed,” Jemma said, her neck flushing.

“Oh right. Clothes – yeah. Clothes are good.” He started putting on the clothes that he had found while Jemma took some fresh clothes from the closet and disappeared into the bathroom.

Fitz was buttoning up his horribly wrinkled shirt when she came back out, looking much more composed now that she was fully dressed.

“Do you remember much from last night? I think I can vaguely recall being in the chapel. We must have had a witness…”

Fitz searched his memories but all he kept getting was brief flashes. His clearest memories were from the bar…

_He very slowly licked his way up Jemma’s skin, catching each and every grain of salt. Jemma’s breath hitched and Fitz could feel her pulse racing beneath his tongue. He gulped down the shot, his eyes never leaving Jemma’s._

_His skin was heating up and Fitz didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from Jemma’s gaze._

_“That’s five,” he said. “Your turn.”_

_Jemma sensed the challenge in his tone and smirked. “I’ll do six.”_

_Fitz picked up his Long Island Iced Tea and fished out the little straw. He took a big swallow. “The lady will have six shots,” he told the bartender._

_“Oh no,” Donnie said. “You’re not trying to outdrink each other, are you? No offense, Jemma, but Fitz’s tolerance is insane. We used to have these contests at MIT, right? Typing out lines of code in five minutes while chugging Johnny or Jager or whatever we could get our hands on. Fitz always won.”_

_Jemma lifted her chin. “I can hold my alcohol just as well.”_

_“Yeah, but I’m Scottish,” Fitz grinned._

_“Is that how it is?”_

_“You bet that’s how it is.”_

_“Alright then, since this is Vegas and you excel at contests, Fitz, why don’t we make a wager?”_

_Donnie shook his head and downed his own drink. “I have a bad feeling about this.”_

_Fitz ignored him. He was actually having fun now and there was no way he was backing down from a challenge from Jemma Simmons._

_“I will drink these six shots. Fitz, you will drink one more to make it even. And we will both drink two Tequila Sunrises. Donnie will give us an equation and whoever solves the equation fastest and correctly wins.”_

_“Wins what?”_

_“Whatever they want.”_

_Fitz may have been just a bit tipsy but he knew he wasn’t imagining the way Jemma licked her lips and let her eyes travel down the length of his body._

_He gulped. “Okay.”_

_Jemma slid off her bar stool and closed the small space between them._

_“What are you doing?” He asked when she started unbuttoning his shirt collar._

_She held up the salt shaker. “I believe fair is fair?”_

_“Oh, right. ‘Course.”_

_Fitz could barely breathe as Jemma licked a long stripe up his neck and shook salt onto it. He was going to lose. He was definitely going to lose and he’d never been happier about losing in his life._

 

“Donnie!” Fitz said. “He was with us practically the whole night, he should know what happened.”

“We should talk to him then.”

He nodded. Jemma looked at him expectantly and he realized a few minutes too late what she was waiting for. His headache really was not going away.

“Oh right!” He fumbled for his phone and dialed up Donnie.

“Pick up,” he muttered as the phone kept ringing. It went to voicemail and he groaned. “He’s not picking up. He’s probably still sleeping.”

“Do you know where his room is?” Jemma asked, looking distressed. “I’d really like a more complete picture of what happened last night.”

“Yeah, I do. Come on, we can go wake him up.” He started to put his arm around her, intending to comfort her but thought better of it. Instead he led the way out of the room.

Jemma’s room happened to be on the same floor as Donnie’s so it was a short walk before they reached his door. When Jemma’s knocking yielded no results, Fitz pounded on the door.

“Donnie! You bleedin’ arsehole! Get up!” 

Jemma stared at him and he felt a little sheepish. 

“Sorry,” he said.

The door opened and a ruffled, obviously hung-over Donnie blinked up at them. “What the hell man?” He demanded. “I’m trying to sleep. Also, keep your voice down. I’m not alone.”

Fitz gaped at him. “You’re not?”

Donnie tugged his robe closed and stepped out into the hallway. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one who got lucky last night.”

He looked at Fitz's rumpled clothes, the same ones from last night, then over at Jemma and grinned.

“About that,” Fitz said. “What the hell happened last night?” 

Donnie scratched the back of his head. He opened his mouth to answer but before he could, the door behind him opened again.

“Callie?” Jemma asked disbelievingly. Fitz looked at Donnie, who winked at him and smirked.

Callie looked up at them, her hair was a mess and she wore Donnie’s shirt over what seemed to be the remains from her dress last night.

“Good morning, Callie,” Donnie said. “Slipping out so soon?”

She grabbed him by the collar of his robe and pulled his face mere inches from hers. Fitz and Jemma cautiously backed away. “Breathe a word of this to anyone else and you’ll be a dead man, Gill.”

Callie gave a brief nod to Fitz and Jemma, smoothed down her hair, and walked away, her heels and purse clutched in one hand.

“Call me?” Donnie yelled after her.

Callie stuck up a middle finger and Fitz grinned down at Jemma, who looked just as amused.

“How the hell did that happen?” Fitz asked. “Wasn’t she chatting up Seth?”

Donnie surprised him by wrapping his arms around Jemma and squeezing her tight. “Thank you thank you thank you! Best wing woman ever! I’m officially firing Fitz.”

Jemma patted Donnie’s back. “You’re welcome?”

She threw a puzzled look at Fitz, who was just as confused.

Donnie pulled away and looked between the two of them. “You don’t remember?”

“Not a thing, mate,” Fitz sighed.

“That’s kind of why we’re here,” Jemma put in.

“Well, come in,” Donnie opened the door to his room and waved them in. “Let me regale you with the glorious story of How Donnie Got Laid.”

 _I’m sorry_ , Fitz mouthed to Jemma behind Donnie’s back. She only grinned, her nose scrunching up in an adorable way that made Fitz’s heart skip a beat.

_By the time Jemma took her sixth and final shot, Fitz was having…problems. He tried to will his body to calm down as Jemma ordered another shot for him._

_“You can always back down, you know?” Jemma said. Fitz didn’t understand how her smug smile could simultaneously make him harder and infuriate him enough to want to beat her, just to see it wiped off her face. Or perhaps he could wipe it off her face with a kiss…_

_Donnie patted him on the back. “Drink up, man. I’m taking bets here.”_

_Fitz hadn’t noticed that the crowd around them had thickened, apparently his and Jemma’s wager had attracted an audience and Donnie was taking advantage of it, taking bills from their inebriated colleagues._

_Fitz didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the confidence boost from hearing so many people placing their bets on him, or Jemma’s smirk that made his blood boil in two different but equally heady ways, but Fitz found himself lunging forward, licking a long line up Jemma’s neck. She gasped and let out a sharp, involuntary moan._

_Fitz grabbed the salt shaker and shook it onto her skin. He licked up the salt slowly, letting his tongue linger and soak up every granule. Jemma’s breath hitched and she grabbed onto Fitz’s shoulders, her fingernails digging in as she let out a much longer moan. Fitz held onto her hips, just barely resisting the urge to part her legs and step in between them as his lips latched onto her skin and sucked. Only the loud whooping and cheering behind them reminded him that they had an audience. He abruptly pulled away, leaving Jemma reeling and grabbing onto to the counter to prevent herself from falling off the stool. Fitz swung back his shot, the tequila burning down his throat._

_Thanks to Donnie the Tequila Sunrises were waiting for them on the counter. Jemma crossed her legs and sipped through the straw while Fitz gulped his down, desperate to ease the tingling on his lips and ignore how very much they wanted to return to Jemma’s skin._

_“Got the equation ready, Donnie?” Jemma asked as she finished off her first glass._

_Donnie finished writing on a napkin and nodded. “Got it! Let’s see you guys solve this one.”_

_Someone scoffed behind him. “Are you serious? A sixth grader could solve that!”_

_“Hey!” Donnie turned around to see Callie peering over his shoulder. “Who asked you?”_

_“At least give them a little bit of challenge, Gill. Or is your tiny brain not capable of it?”_

_“Callie!” Jemma called happily and stretched out her arms. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”_

_Callie hugged Jemma and laughed. “You’re drunk, girl.”_

_“Am not!”_

_“Then you might want to cool it with the PDA. I thought Fitz here was going to lay you down on the bar and have his way with you!”_

_Jemma’s already flushed face turned the shade of a very ripe tomato. She whispered something in Callie’s ear and both girls giggled._

_Fitz and Donnie exchanged a look and Fitz downed the last of his second glass. “If you’re ready,” he said._

_“Oh no!” Callie grabbed the napkin and pen from Donnie’s hands. “You guys are not going to solve that one. You’re going to solve this.”_

_She proceeded to write down something that took up a whole napkin._

_“Now you’re just making it impossible,” Donnie complained as he looked over her shoulder. “I can barely solve that sober.”_

_“That’s because you’re an idiot and not a prodigal genius like these two.”_

_“Hey! Who had the second highest grade in Chemical Kinetics next to Fitz? Was it Callie Hannigan? No, no! It was me!”_

_“So you admit you’re just second to Fitz?” Callie smirked._

_“Better than being ranked fifth.”_

_Callie’s eyes narrowed._

_“Guys?” Fitz cut in. “We’d like to finish this wager tonight.”_

_Jemma giggled and leaned her head on Fitz’s shoulder. “Let them flirt, Fitzy.”_

_“Flirt!” Donnie sputtered indignantly. “With her? No way!”_

_“Just for that, Jemma Simmons,” Callie said. “I’m placing my bet on Fitz!”_

_Jemma hopped down off her stool and Fitz had to reach out to steady her on her impossibly high heels. She stood toe to toe with Callie._

_“You will not,” she said._

_“Oh, yes I will.”_

_Jemma crossed her arms and Fitz tried not to stare at the way it accentuated her cleavage. He wasn’t the only one who noticed though and he glowered at the gaping men. Jemma and Callie looked to be on the verge of a cat fight and even the bartender had stopped taking orders to watch._

_“I propose we make our own wager then,” Jemma said._

_“Name it.”_

_“If I win, you have to kiss Donnie.”_

_“Can’t we bet on something that won’t make me vomit?”_

_“Hey!” Donnie protested. “I don’t wanna kiss you either!”_

_“If Fitz wins,” Callie said. “I get to tell Fitz your secret.”_

_Jemma looked confused for a moment and then her eyes widened in horror. “No.”_

_“Oh yes,” Callie nodded._

_“Fine,” Jemma said. “I’ll just make sure I win then. And you can enjoy Donnie’s tongue down your throat.”_

_“Come on, Fitz!” Callie slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Prove you’re a genius.”_

_Fitz accepted the napkin and pen and another fresh napkin. He felt a little dizzy as he stared down at the series of numbers and variables but he’d been solving equations like these before he was ten years old and he could do them in his sleep. He started writing and refrained from telling Callie that her equation was almost an insult to his intelligence. He scratched out the last of his answer and let the pen fall with a clatter._

_“One minute and forty-two seconds,” Donnie said, staring down at his phone. “Not up to your usual standard, Fitz.”_

_“You try doing that after six shots!” Fitz protested, though he hated to admit that Donnie was right. Even drunk, that time was an embarrassment._

_“Jemma, your turn.”_

_Jemma took another napkin and started writing. Fitz watched the way her tongue stuck out of her lips and how her brow wrinkled as she concentrated. He thought for what must have been the hundredth time that night that he really would not mind losing. The pen dropped and Jemma looked up triumphantly._

_“One minute and twenty-eight seconds!” Donnie said. “Jemma’s the winner on time, let’s check your answers.”_

_“Let me check it,” Callie said. “I don’t trust your limited brainpower to even know the correct answer.”_

_Donnie held up the napkins out of her reach. “Nuh-uh. I’ll check it and have an unbiased observer double check.” He looked behind him. “Ned! Perfect. Come here, man.”_

_A small man in glasses that Fitz didn’t recognize walked over. “Callie, Jemma, Fitz, this is Dr. Ned Hughes. Professor of Chemical Engineering at Cal Tech.”_

_The man nodded at them all._

_“They both look correct to me. What do you think, Ned?”_

_He took the napkins and adjusted his glasses to peer down at them. “That’s funny,” he said._

_“What?” Donnie asked. “Did I miss something?”_

_“There are a couple of ways to solve this equation but look, they took the exact same shortcut. Their solutions are identical. If I didn’t know better, I’d say one of them just copied the other’s work, or it was solved by the same person. You’re right though, Donnie. The answers are correct.”_

_Donnie looked down at the napkins again. “Huh. You’re right. Thanks, Ned. Anyways, Jemma wins based on time! Pucker up, Callie.”_

_“Gross,” Callie said._

_Fitz grabbed the napkins to see what the hell they were talking about. He was astonished to see that they were right and his and Jemma’s answers were carbon copies of one another. It was like they had one mind._

_Jemma was leaning her head on his shoulder again. “I win,” she said softly._

_“Yeah. So what do you want, Dr. Simmons?”_

_She looked up into his eyes, her coffee brown eyes darkening to a deep chocolate. Her gaze traveled down to his lips and she leaned in._

_They were interrupted by cheering and whooping and Fitz looked behind him to see that Donnie had Callie pressed up against the counter and was kissing her deeply. Despite their earlier protests, they both seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely._

_“I want you to be mine for tonight,” Jemma said into his ear._

_“Just for tonight?” He whispered._

_“Buy me another drink, Fitz, and we’ll see.”_

_He swallowed hard and did as the lady asked._

 

“After that Callie and I came up here and I don’t know what you guys did but it can’t be much different to what we did, huh?” Donnie smirked at them.

Fitz looked at Jemma. “We were still at the bar when you left? Was there anyone else there? Anyone else that we knew?”

Donnie shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

Fitz stood up from his place at the small table in the room. “Donnie, think, please. This is important.”

“Why?”

Fitz looked at Jemma again and she nodded. “We did something stupid last night.”

“Had sex? Haven’t you been wanting to do that with her since-”

“Donnie! We got married alright? We got married!”

Donnie’s jaw dropped and he looked from Fitz to Jemma. And then he started laughing. 

“Well damn!” He slapped Fitz on the shoulder. “Congrats, man!”

“This isn’t funny, Donnie!”

“It’s a little funny.”

Jemma stood up. “Donnie, please. We want to know how this happened.”

Donnie shook his head and paced in front of the bed. “I can’t remember much after Callie and I…you know…” He smiled slightly, his eyes glazing over for a second and Fitz couldn’t help but think that his friend might be in a world of trouble. “I think Jemma’s friend was there? Blonde, tall, legs for days…”

“Bobbi?” Jemma asked.

“Yeah, I heard a guy’s name.”

“Bobbi’s room is two floors up! Come on, Fitz. Thanks Donnie!”

“No, thank you, Jemma.” He bowed to her and Fitz rolled his eyes, following Jemma out the door.

“She could have been the witness,” Jemma said, punching the up button at the elevator banks.

“She’s your friend?”

“Bobbi’s a Biologist. We were at Cambridge together. She works at Harvard now but we keep in touch.”

“Why wouldn’t she stop us?”

Jemma frowned. “You’re right, she couldn’t have been the witness. Bobbi, of all people, wouldn’t be part of a drunken Vegas wedding. Not after her two divorces…to the same guy.”

They got off the elevator on the twelfth floor. “She might still know something though.”

Jemma nodded and knocked on the door of 1216. A tall, blindingly beautiful blonde woman opened the door.

She gave them a shit eating grin. “Good morning, newlyweds.”


	4. Shake the Glitter Off Your Clothes Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jemma shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I need to do this now, while I have the courage. Please, Bobbi. All my life I’ve always followed the rules. I’ve planned my life down to the smallest detail. Just once I want to do something unplanned, something crazy. I want to do something just because I feel like doing it. Because it’ll make me happy, make me feel good.”_

Jemma gaped at Bobbi. “You know?”

“Honey, I was there. Don’t you remember?”

“What-why?”

Fitz laid a hand on Jemma’s back and guided her into the room. Jemma tried and failed not to feel completely betrayed by her friend.

“How could you let this happen, Bobbi?” Jemma demanded. “Obviously we weren’t in our right minds!”

“Jemma, you made it clear that you were going to do it with or without me there. Do you really not remember?”

Jemma shook her head, the shame she felt somehow not overpowering the pleasure at the fact that Fitz’s hand was still at the small of her back and her skin tingled beneath his touch.

“Alright, sit down and I’ll tell you the story.” Bobbi gestured to the bed and perched herself on the armchair by the bed.

 

_“Those two seriously need to get a room.”_

_Jemma turned to see Bobbi, looking on at Donnie and Callie in distaste. “Bobbi!” She squealed and threw her arms around the much taller woman. “You’re here!”_

_“I said I’d follow you down here whenever I managed to get away from all the schmoozing Sheila was making me do. How much have had you had to drink?”_

_Jemma grinned and leaned back into Fitz, making sure he didn’t stray too far. He was so warm and his hands felt so good on her body. She didn’t want to let him out of her sight and Jemma’s mind was too hazy to delve too deeply into the reason why._

_“Just a bit.” She tried to hold up her thumb and index finger but wobbled back onto Fitz._

_“Uh-huh. Having fun?” Bobbi asked, smirking up at Fitz._

_“Oh! Fitz, this is Bobbi Morse. She’s a Biologist. We went to Cambridge together. Bobbi, this is Dr. Fitz.”_

_Fitz held out a hand to shake and Bobbi took it. “Dr. Fitz?” She looked at Jemma. “I know who you are.”_

_“You do?” Fitz asked, confused._

_Jemma’s eyes widened in warning. “I mean, I’m familiar with your work.”_

_Fitz just seemed more confused. “You are?”_

_“Sure. Just because I’m in biology doesn’t mean I can’t be interested in engineering, right?”_

_“Right,” Fitz said, scratching the back of his neck. “Of course.”_

_“So, Dr. Fitz, are you going to buy us a drink?” Bobbi asked, not missing the way Jemma had intertwined her hand with Fitz’s and how she had practically latched herself onto his arm._

_“Just, uh, just Fitz. And yeah, of course. What would you like?”_

_“Tequila Sunrise!” Jemma yelled, pumping one fist into the air. “Bobbi, you have to try the Tequila Sunrises here. They’re sooooo good.”_

_Bobbi laughed. “I think you’ve already had too many, Jem.”_

_Jemma let go of Fitz to wrap her arms around Bobbi’s neck. Bobbi stumbled a little as she took the other girl’s weight. She had forgotten that Jemma could be such a touchy-feely drunk. It was rare for her to drink enough to get past just being tipsy._

_“I’m gonna take Fitz upstairs to my room,” Jemma whispered into Bobbi’s ear. It was a good thing that the bar was loud and Fitz was currently preoccupied with getting their drinks because Jemma’s whisper wasn’t so much a whisper as a shout right into Bobbi’s eardrums._

_“Good for you. Get it, girl! It’s about time. You’ve been after this guy for…what? Five years?”_

_Jemma shook her head frantically. “Shhhh…”_

_Fitz came back with their drinks and Bobbi deftly moved Jemma into Fitz’s arms, draping her arms around his neck. Bobbi plucked both of the drinks out of Fitz’s hands._

_“Thanks! Hey, how about you take Jemma upstairs to her room? Maybe get her some water.”_

_“Yeah,” Fitz said, looking down at Jemma with a soft smile on his face. “We’ve both probably had enough for the night.”_

_Bobbi took a sip from one of her drinks and raised the other in a toast. “Good night. Have fun!”_

_“Night night, Bobbi!” Jemma waved and blew a kiss._

_Bobbi winked and mouthed ‘Get it.’ She sincerely hoped that Jemma wasn’t too drunk to enjoy the activities that were no doubt about to happen. She watched the couple stumble out of the bar and turned to survey the room, wondering if she could get as lucky as Jemma._

_In the corner of the room sat a man that was tall, dark, and handsome. She made eye contact with him and took a seat on the bar stool, pointedly crossing her legs and turning away. In her peripheral vision she could see him stand up and start to make his towards her. Oh yes, come to mama._

 

Jemma and Fitz looked at one another and Jemma shyly dropped her gaze.

“What happened when we left the bar?” She asked.

“How am I supposed to know? It’s not like I was going to follow you guys.”

“Then why were you there when we got married?” Fitz asked.

“Because Jemma called me. You interrupted a very hot make out session, thank you very much. You begged me to come down to the chapel. I did it so that I could stop you but…”

“But what?”

Bobbi sighed and looked at Jemma. “You really don’t remember?”

There was a pleading look in Bobbi’s eyes that Jemma didn’t understand. But she knew her friend well enough that whatever Bobbi’s reasons were for letting Jemma make the biggest mistake she’s ever made in her life so far, she didn’t want to say it in front of Fitz.

“I think I’d like to speak to Bobbi alone,” Jemma told Fitz. “Can you wait for me in my room? We can talk about what we should do next.”

Fitz hesitated but eventually nodded and took the key card she held out to him. “See you soon,” he said.

Once the door closed behind Fitz, Jemma turned to Bobbi with her arms crossed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Bobbi said. “I’m not the one that told you to get married.”

“But you didn’t stop it! Even though you knew how drunk I was!”

Bobbi sighed heavily. “Do you really think I wouldn’t have stopped you if I could have? Or if I thought you were making a seriously big mistake? I, of all people, know that drunken weddings do not end well.”

“Then why?”

Bobbi pulled the chair so that she was sitting right across from Jemma. “I swear to you that everything I’m about to tell you is exactly what happened. And you really need to think about if you’re not remembering the events of last night because you can’t or because you don’t want to.”

 

_Tall, dark, and handsome’s name was Dave and he was a very good kisser. They were in a darkened hallway in the bar and Bobbi was seriously considering taking Dave upstairs to her room. His hand wandered up her dress and suddenly her room seemed too damn far. She kissed Dave harder and hitched one leg around his hips, encouraging his hand to travel higher. A ringing broke through Bobbi’s haze of lust. It was her phone._

_She ignored it as Dave’s lips traveled down her neck, licking and sucking and making Bobbi’s eyes roll to the back of her head. But the ringing would not stop. She brought her hands up behind Dave’s head and pulled out her phone from her wristlet clutch._

_It was Jemma calling._

_Bobbi still considered ignoring it, especially when Dave sucked her pulse point just so…_

_But Bobbi and Jemma had made a pact way back in University that they’d never put guys ahead of the needs of their girlfriends. Jemma was supposed to be screwing Fitz’s brains out at this moment; she couldn’t imagine why her friend would be calling her. Not unless it was really important._

_Reluctantly, Bobbi pushed Dave away and held the phone up to her ear._

_“This better be damn important, Jemma Simmons,” she growled. “I’m in the middle of something.”_

_A giggle met her ears. “Bobbi, you have to come quick! We need a witness!”_

_“A witness? When the hell did you get so damn kinky?”_

_Jemma giggled again. “A witness at the chapel! I’m getting married, Bob!”_

_“WHAT?”_

_Bobbi shoved Dave away, who was kissing on her neck again. She walked away without looking back, pulling her dress down as she went._

_“Where are you, Jemma?”_

_Jemma sounded surprisingly sober as she recited the name and address of the chapel. It was only a few blocks away and Bobbi slipped off her heels as she walked as quickly as she could._

_This did not sound like the Jemma Simmons that she knows. Bobbi could believe that with some liquid courage, Jemma had finally made a move on the guy that she had been crushing on for forever. But there was no way that Ms. Preparation would agree to a spur-of-the-moment Vegas wedding to a guy that she barely knew. Bobbi couldn’t help wondering if maybe Fitz wasn’t as great as Jemma always made him out to be. Jemma’s crush on him had always been like a super nerdy version of a celebrity crush, she didn’t really know him as a person and now she may be paying the price._

_When Bobbi got to the chapel, Jemma and Fitz were standing outside, their arms wrapped around each other and looking for all the world like a sickeningly, gooey, desperately in love couple as they stared into each other’s eyes. Bobbi grabbed Jemma’s arm and tugged her away._

_“Bobbi! You’re here!”_

_“Yeah, I’m here and we’re going back to the hotel. Come on.”_

_“No.” Jemma pulled back. “Bobbi, stop. I’m getting married!”_

_“Like hell you are, Jemma Simmons. Do you even know what you’re doing? How much have you had to drink tonight?”_

_Jemma dug her heels in. “I’m not that drunk. I want to do this.”_

_“You don’t even know this guy, Jem. How can you marry him?”_

_“You didn’t know Hunter when you married him!”_

_Bobbi laughed. “Really? Is that the example you’re looking up to? Look how that turned out. Hunter and I made each other miserable! I divorced him twice!”_

_“But you loved him enough to marry him twice,” Jemma argued. “I saw you guys. Yeah, you fought a lot. But you really loved each other.”_

_“Are you saying that you love Fitz?”_

_Jemma blushed and looked down at her feet, which Bobbi now saw were bare. When she looked over Jemma’s shoulder at where Fitz was standing, she could see him clutching Jemma’s red heels in one hand. Bobbi didn’t know why but she could feel herself softening at the sight._

_“You barely know him,” Bobbi said gently. “Why don’t you sleep on this? If you guys still want to get married tomorrow, when you’re both sober, I promise I’ll be your witness.”_

_Jemma shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I need to do this now, while I have the courage. Please, Bobbi. All my life I’ve always followed the rules. I’ve planned my life down to the smallest detail. Just once I want to do something unplanned, something crazy. I want to do something just because I feel like doing it. Because it’ll make me happy, make me feel good.”_

_“Then sleep with the guy! Don’t get hitched to him.”_

_“Bobbi, I want to do this. I-I think I could fall in love with him.”_

_“Don’t you want to wait until you do?”_

_“I can’t explain it, Bobbi. I just feel like this is right.”_

_Fitz approached them cautiously. He put an arm around Jemma’s shoulders._

_“Maybe we should go back to the hotel,” he suggested._

_“No,” Jemma said stubbornly. “We’re getting married.”_

_She looked up at Fitz and Bobbi could barely stand to see the vulnerability in her friend’s eyes. She felt like she was intruding on something intensely private when those two looked at each other but Bobbi couldn’t look away. Not when Jemma’s happiness was on the line._

_“You do want to marry me, don’t you, Fitz?” Jemma asked in a small voice._

_“Of course I do,” he said. “It’s just…this is happening really fast, isn’t it?”_

_“But it feels right, doesn’t it?” She took his hand and placed it over her heart. “In here.”_

_“Yeah.” Fitz placed a kiss on her forehead and pressed his lips to the top of her head, lingering there and closing his eyes. “Yeah, it does.”_

_Bobbi blamed the alcohol but she could feel her own eyes tearing up. She couldn’t claim to know much about life but she knew what real love looked like. And what she was seeing in front of her was real love. Maybe this marriage would end in disaster or maybe this was the push that Jemma needed to get to her happily ever after. Either way, Bobbi couldn’t stand between them._

_“So are we going into the chapel or not?” She asked._

_Jemma broke away from Fitz and grinned at her. “You’ll be our witness?”_

_Bobbi nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it, Jem. Just don’t blame me in the morning.”_

 

“And then we got married?” Jemma asked.

“And then you got married,” Bobbi confirmed. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that you were super drunk. I don’t think the Elvis impersonator that married you knew. You and Fitz both seemed sober during the ceremony. And really happy.”

Jemma dropped her face into her hands. “What have I done?” She groaned.

“I think that for once in your life you threw caution to the wind and followed your gut instinct. Try to channel the Jemma from last night, she must have known something you don’t when she got the idea to marry Fitz.”

**

Jemma closed the door behind her and Fitz looked up from where he was sitting on the bed. She sat down beside him.

“What did Bobbi say?” He asked.

Jemma had rehearsed her answer on the elevator ride. She looked down at her hands, knowing that she’d never be able to do what needed to be done if she allowed herself to get lost in the blue depths of Fitz’s eyes. “She explained what happened. It was my idea to get married. Apparently I was rather persistent.”

Fitz blew out a breath. “I doubt I protested much,” he said dryly.

Jemma felt a flutter in her stomach. She pushed it down and still refused to look up at him. “I have to be practical about this, Fitz. We don’t really know each other and considering that we live on opposite sides of the country, there’s not really a chance that we’ll be able to get to know each other. Last night was a mistake.”

“A mistake,” he echoed softly and it might have been Jemma’s imagination but his voice sounded hollow. She chanced a glance at him and Fitz was looking down at his hands, his eyes hidden from her.

“There’s also the matter of…Well, I sort of have someone at home.” Jemma’s hands twisted as she thought of Connor. They’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months and they’ve never declared themselves exclusive. She didn’t have particularly strong feelings for Connor and was on the verge of ending things with him anyway but Jemma didn’t like sitting in a morally grey area. She liked black and white, precise and clear-cut lines. She was still somewhat attached to someone and getting involved with someone else was irresponsible. 

Fitz’s head jerked up and Jemma caught the flash of hurt in his eyes before he brought his gaze down to his hands again.

“Right. I should’ve known. Any bloke would be crazy not to-Anyway,” he cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll just go then. We’ll get the annulment, yeah? Send the paperwork my way or whatever. I can take care of it if you want.”

He was at the door before Jemma could even stand up.

“Tha-Um…I mean, it was nice…” He sighed, his back to her and his shoulders slumped, one hand on the doorknob. “I’m glad I met you, Jemma.”

He didn’t turn around even as he said it and he was out the door before Jemma could get a word out. She felt an ache in her chest, an almost unbearable urge to run after him, to take it all back and tell him it wasn’t a mistake at all. Her feet had brought her five steps to the door before her brain kicked in. She didn’t know Leopold Fitz, she couldn’t possibly love him already, and trying to pursue a relationship with him was a fantasy at best. Jemma Simmons didn’t live in fantasies.


End file.
